The Testimony
by Nell Belle
Summary: One of Alex's previous victims is brought in for questioning after he has murdered the Cat-Lady. However, it seems she was more of his groupie than his victim. Italics represent the events taking place as she tells the story, and regular text is her testimony. One-sided Alex/OC. Rated T for sexual content. Backstory for Natasha will soon follow!
1. Chapter 1

"_Her name is Natasha," one policeman said to another officer. They had picked up a young girl off the streets. Her hair was dyed jet black, and cut short, so it came down to her chin. She wore all white, and boots the same color as her hair. _

"_And did she know him?" the other asked._

"_Yes, very well."_

_He turned to the girl. "Miss Natasha, would you mind telling us a bit about this Alex? How you came to know him, perhaps?"_

I had been lurking around with Billyboy and his four droogs after school for about a month now. Billyboy was my "boyfriend," but my em and pee disapproved of him. They skazatted I see the chelloveck in the flat upstairs; his em had said he went out helping people at nochy.

The chelloveck was Alex Burgess—that was his eemya legally, but we all called him DeLarge. He went to school with me, and when he asked me to one of those gloopy dances, I accepted. Alex was really no better than Billyboy. He had three droogs of his own, and on the night of the dance he stole an auto and we rode off. He yeckated straight on past the skolliwoll. I didn't know where he wanted to go, and I didn't ask.

The auto stopped in a dark back road. He turned to me and he said, "My em tells me you're a singer."

"Yes," I said, all shy-like. "I used to sing before we moved."

"Sing a warble for me, little sister."

I did. I decided on my favorite aria, _O mio babbino caro _by the great Puccini. He sat in silence—didn't say a slovo until I was finished.

"Beautiful. Will you sing some more for me?" he asked.

I started to name arias and gloopy warbles, but he pulled me from the auto and into one of the alleyways.

"Sing, like real quiet so nobody but I can slooshy this beauty," he said.

Em and Pee had taken me to see a show when I was but a malenky devotchka, called _The Phantom of the Opera_, where a veck in a maskie fell in love with a beautiful singer. I remembered one of the warbles and the words came out real quick. But as I sang, Alex started putting his hands all over my plott.

"Lovely," he whispered. And suddenly he was kissing my neck. I stopped singing—I barely knew him! There I was, a practically strange veck I didn't viddy very much, kissing me in an alley. I pushed him back, but soon he brosayed me down on the ground, real savage, pinning my malenky plott down with his fisties on either side of my gulliver.

"I can't sing like _this_," I sneered.

"Don't govoreet, sister," he replied, his goobers moving all up and down my shiya. "Let Uncle Alex take you to a fantasy world, like nothing you've ever sneetied before."

He fiddled with the buttons on my blouse, and even though I wanted to tell him to stop, I let him get on with what he wanted to do. I thought that if I said something, he wouldn't like me anymore. I felt his pan-handle up against my sharp parts, and I knew what he would do next.

It wasn't long before we were lubbilubbing, right there on the ground. He tolchoked me a few times throughout, but it felt real horroshow to have a new chelloveck on me. When it was all over, Alex sobirated me so we were standing again. He looked at me, his blue glazzies twinkling in the moonlight, and I kissed him like I meant it. He tolchoked me back down to the ground.

"Don't be bezoomy, love! That was just the old in-out, in-out, nothing more."

"Billyboy always meant it."

His glazz-brows raised in surprise. "Well! In that case, I mean it more than anything."

"_Was this…Billyboy a rival to Alex?" the first officer asked._

"_Yes, sir. They were always dratting."_

_The first officer looked at the second in confusion. "It means 'fighting,'" the second man said. "Teenage slang." The main police officer was an older man. He didn't know much of Nadsat. The second man was much younger, so he understood what Natasha told him. _

_The young man looked her in the eye. "So what you're saying is, Alex sexually harassed you when you thought he was taking you to a school dance?"_

"_I didn't think it was considered harassment," Natasha said, "if the victim liked it."_


	2. Chapter 2

When Alex got locked up for killing the Cat-Lady, I sent him letters. He wrote back when he could, and he said it made all the other plennies jealous that he got mail from a devotchka. I viddied the news, all worried-like, whenever they mentioned him. My poor, dear Alex, in jail for a murder his vicious droogs made him commit!

"_That will be enough," said the older officer. He tapped his companion on the shoulder and said softly, "It seems we have a sympathizer on our hands."_

"_Natasha," the younger man called out. "We have all we need from you, you're free to go."_

_An officer escorted her home._

I didn't viddy much of Alex when he got out of prison. It wasn't until a few years later that I finally ran into him. I had been walking down the street on a rainy London day when I saw his familiar litso.

"Alex?" I murmured, like in a dream.

It took him a while to recognize me. "Natasha?"

I ran over to him, and after a few seconds of a happy reunion, said, "Why don't we itty over to one of the old spots? Maybe the Korova?"

"No, no," he said. "I'm done with Milk-Plus. Would you like to come back to my flat? We have catching-up to do, my darling!" He gave me one of those typical "Alex" smiles. We went back to his apartment, where he lived all by himself, and govoreeted for a while. I realized that he didn't use any Nadsat, so I tried not to, either.

"I stopped with the ultraviolence," he said, staring at the floor as we sat on the settee in his living room. "I'm trying to find work now, but it's hard with a criminal record like mine."

"I thought we had fun," I replied.

"Fun? All that violence, the raping and killing, you thought it was fun?" He raised his voice. It was clear I angered him.

"I guess it was just a teenage phase."

"It makes me sick just thinking about it."

Soon, our reunion came to a bittersweet ending. And I was left to ponder what to do with my life. I had fallen in love with Alex all those years ago, but I knew he wouldn't want me now. After I had returned to my own flat, I found my old "sharp-droog" clothes, as I had called them, and threw them into the depths of my closet. If Alex could turn his life around, so could I.


End file.
